


sleep was for those who'd earned it; coffee was for everyone else

by OrbManson7



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Agender Number Five | The Boy, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleep Deprivation, way more angst than h/c yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 13:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrbManson7/pseuds/OrbManson7
Summary: Emotions were like a death sentence.Five had learned to switch off their emotions after enough time on their own. And, while working for the Temps Commission had put that particular skill to use for a short time, they'd long since been using it to just live their everyday life.





	sleep was for those who'd earned it; coffee was for everyone else

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so i wrote this a few months ago, but i had a really hard time writing the ending until now because i super-projected onto five (which is why this has my own version of panic/anxiety attacks, and i don't know that this is how most others experience them) and also i don't actually know how the "comfort" part of hurt/comfort really works, so... yeah.  
the ending isn't great, but hopefully the rest is worth the read!

  
Emotions were like a death sentence.   
  
Five had learned to switch off their emotions after enough time on their own. And, while working for the Temps Commission had put that particular skill to use for a short time, they'd long since been using it to just live their everyday life. It came in handy as a child, living in the mansion of a man who saw them and their siblings as assets, not wards. And not much later, given the situation, as the apocalypse needed survival more than comfort. It really only took some simple and rational reasoning.   
  
  
_ Sadness was unnecessary. _ _   
_ _ Fear was far from useful. _ _   
_ _ Anger was unimportant. _ _   
_ _ Pain was temporary. _   
  
  
Emotions were irrelevant when the world had ended, and continued to be just as irrelevant long after Five had managed to bend time, or rather bend themselves to its will and shove their consciousness into their past self, in order to stop the world from ending in the first place.   
  
Five had learned a lot over the years, but the one notion that stayed true was that  _ feelings _ didn't help anyone or anything. Emotions only created barriers, overran critical thoughts with mindless chatter, and always had miles of strings attached. With so many unknowns unraveling in dozens of directions, feelings just made everything messy and complicated. Five didn't have the time to think about the emotional impact of their actions or words, nor any consequences of the mind; they had to stick with the facts, the numbers.    
  
  
_ Anguish was needless. _ _   
_ _ Loneliness was redundant. _ _   
_ _ Grief was inessential. _ _   
_ _ Shame would pass. _ _   
_   
  
"I'm not looking for happy," is what they had told The Handler. They hadn't lied, hadn't had a reason to, even in the midst of a convoluted plan to save their family of thick-headed idiots. Five wasn't sure they remembered the last time they were ever happy, but they’d made it this far, so clearly they were better off without it.    
Unwanted emotions led to unwanted behaviors, after all. And no one had time for that, least of all Five.   
  
  
_ Excitement was trivial. _ _   
_ _ Frustration was unwarranted. _ _   
_ _ Empathy was just excessive. _ _   
_ _ Hope was unimportant. _   
  
  
The apocalypse was less than a week away and Five was no closer to giving their family a better chance of surviving it. Despite giving themselves plenty of leeway to solve this problem, they still didn't know what they would be up against. Time was ticking by, and it was ticking fast. Too fast.   
  
They'd put so much effort into getting back to this sliver of the timeline, just to see their siblings  _ alive _ , Five hadn't focused enough on an actual solution in stopping the apocalypse to keep them that way.   
  
Emotions ruined everything.   
  
They were so ready to see everyone breathing and talking again, they didn't realize how caught up in themselves their siblings would be once Five had returned. But they didn't have time to be off-put by it, because the end of everything was only days away. There was too much work to do.   
  
If the others wanted to argue amongst themselves about their waste of a father, then fine. Five would save their asses from the apocalypse and let them bicker all they wanted.   
But that meant the end of everything would have to be stopped first.   
And  _ that _ meant working the numbers out and investigating leads and not seeing those very same siblings they had come back to protect, at least not until it was all over.   
Once Five fixed everything, they'd have plenty of time to catch up on what was missed all those years they were gone.   
For now, though, they would get the math right.

  
  
They stared at the wall, covered in four hundred and twenty-eight different probability foundation equations. Five had finally started narrowing down the options, but it was still too complex, too convoluted. There was still far too much room for error. And, really, a piano teacher being offed couldn't really stop any of those girls from getting a new instructor, so that one was clearly a dead end.   
Four hundred and twenty-seven equations, then.    
  
Five couldn't help but glance over at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. It was late, but at least that meant no one would be awake to bother them. Which was fine. Even if the quiet was unsettling. It didn't matter.   
  
Family would come later. Rest would come later. Once Five earned it, that was.   
  
Five fundamentally functioned on the idea that once they completed their job, they could sleep like a baby and maybe even enjoy something for once. But getting their hopes up didn't accomplish anything. It only wasted time. Time that would be better spent finding a solution, not daydreaming of success.   
  
  
_ Relief was never required. _ _   
_ _ Sentiment held no point. _ _   
_ _ Compassion was useless. _ _   
_ _ Regret would be fleeting. _   
  
  
They caught themselves rubbing their eyes as they stared blankly at the wall covered in chalk writing. A yawn threatened to break out but Five clamped their jaw shut, stifling it.   
They'd already wasted too much time. They could rest when they solved this.   
  


Sleep was for those who'd earned it. Coffee was for everyone else.   
  
Five peered over their shoulder to the cold and empty mug sitting on their small, untidy desk across the room. They hadn't refilled it for a while now. They weren't sure how many times they'd refilled it that day, either. Surely a small coffee break wouldn't do much harm?    
  
Five snapped their attention back to the wall, the equations.   
  
They'd wasted too much time already. Narrowing this down to a suitable pool of contenders would take the rest of the night, at the very least. 

Stopping now was delaying the necessary.

Five glanced back at the mug. However, they'd proven to be more productive these days with some coffee in their system to keep them working, keep them awake.   
Such an exception was justifiable. They just had to be quick.   


* * *

  
  
Five's fingers itched and twitched around the mug of lukewarm coffee as they sat at the kitchen table in silence, alone. The dim lighting and the faint sound of cars driving past just outside helped calm their growing headache. 

They sighed almost silently into the quiet air.   
The days were going by too quickly, and they hadn't narrowed down the possible components of their destruction yet, certainly not enough to keep anyone alive at this rate. Five was effectively failing their family--no, Five was failing the whole world.   
  
  
_ Regret would be fleeting. _   
  
  
They peered into the blackness of the coffee, unable to discern the scent anymore as their mind raced.   
  
It was the variables. The variables always threw them off when they got far enough along. Really, it should be expected by now, and thus corrected. 

Delores always berated them for spending too long focusing on specific elements, but if Five worked in rotating sections, they’d lose too much time overall. Working in bursts to blow through each piece to completion just suited them better, which was why it was fine to take a short, minuscule, insignificant moment and set their mind straight again. Right? They just had to get their brain back in working order. Coffee would fix it. It had to.   
  
  
_ Frustration was unwarranted. _   
  
  
Five checked the quietly ticking clock on the wall.  **2:49AM** .   
  
They didn't have the time to let their brain get back to a functioning status. They needed to find answers, find the source, find the solace their family deserved. Sitting there was a waste of everyone's time, everyone's lives. The whole planet would be gone in a few, short days, and it was all because Five had decided to just sit there, in the dark, to drink a mediocre cup of coffee.   
  
  
_ Sadness was unnecessary. _   
  
  
They looked down at their clenched fists. Their hands were shaking. 

Not this again.    
They recognized the stinging sensation in their chest, and Five immediately pushed it down and ignored it, as they always did.

This happened before, after they'd escaped the future, the ended wasteland of the world. Quite a few times while working for the Commission, Five would have these obnoxious moments where their body betrayed them. It was the emotions that always did it, crawling in and crossing wires like gremlins. They knew it happened at least once since returning to 2019. But Five often found that if they cleared their mind, kept any emotions completely at bay, then the pain would subside and they could continue on with the task at hand. No emotions, no mishaps. The perfect machine.

  
They leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair, waiting on the pain in their chest to go away. This was only wasting more time, everyone's time. Five hoped pitifully that whatever this was would stop and let them get back to what they needed to do.

_   
Hope was unimportant. _   
  
  
Five heard their own sharp inhale as it echoed in the large, empty kitchen. It was so impossibly quiet now, the cars outside had stopped, the buzzing of the freezer was gone. The sound of blood rushing in their ears pounded and made them wince.    
  
  
_ Loneliness was redundant. _   
  
  
They stood up, scratching the chair against the floor loudly, creating another echo in the room. Somehow, the sudden noise was even more unsettling than the silence.    
Without a thought, Five grabbed the half-full mug and stomped their way to the sink to dump it out.   
They turned on the faucet, letting more sound into the kitchen, drowning out the unending quiet all around them.   
  
  
_ Relief was never required. _   
  
  
Five turned the cold water tap on as far as it would go and shoved their hands under the running water.   
They let it slowly grow colder, almost freezing, as it slid over their hands and circled the drain.   
  
Five closed their eyes, the cold water sending goosebumps up their arms. They breathed in, letting the chill fill them and replace whatever else was inside, whatever was aching.   
  
  
_ Pain was temporary. _   
  
  
No heat wrapping the air, no ash forever falling from the sky, and certainly no open, empty silence encompassing everything, everywhere. It was fine here. It was numb.    
  
The sink glugged as the water poured down the drain, and the noise didn't make Five feel an ounce of relief. They didn't feel loneliness, or hope. There wasn't any sadness or frustration to be had. Regret was never there at all.   
  
They were just fine. They were numb. 

They had to be.   
  
A distant creak of a door sounded, and Five's eyes shot open. Their body went stiff.    
They didn't move, just stared down at the water falling over their hands. They couldn't feel the pressure of the water anymore; their hands had lost that sense.   
  
Of course they'd managed to wake someone up after all of that. They should have expected it.   
Depending on which sibling it was, Five figured they would have to navigate a proper remark and then make an unappealing spatial jump upstairs to finish the work they'd spent so much time neglecting already.   
  
Five glanced back at the clock.  **3:04AM** .    
How much longer had it been since they last checked? Their mind fogged as they realized they couldn't remember. Probably too long. They were wasting time for everyone.    
Five's eyes narrowed. 

Just like they'd wasted their coffee. Just like they were currently wasting water.    
They turned off the faucet hastily, shaking their head in exasperation. 

What was the point of any of that? Why did they convince themselves to come down here at all? If Delores were here, she'd be ranting about all this irrational behavior, Five was certain. This is what was killing their family, right here, Five not doing their job.   
  
They frowned at their dripping hands and then turned around to wipe them haphazardly on their shirt. They had discarded the blazer of the dreadful uniform hours ago, but the button-down shirt and vest underneath were already a crumpled mess. They might as well be wet, too. 

Five looked up.   
  
Klaus was standing in the doorway, just staring at Five. If Five felt startled, they wouldn't have known. They didn't seem to feel anything. They didn't react.   
  
"Uhhh," Klaus blinked and started oh-so-eloquently. "Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin'?"

Klaus leaned against the makeshift doorway, his expression looking exhausted and mostly confused. That was probably fair, all things considered.   
  
Five relied on instinct and glared at Klaus instead of wasting more time trying to decide on a viable remark to make him leave.   
  
Klaus glanced to his left for a moment and Five's glare dropped in realization. Oh, no.   
  
Their eyes met again, and Klaus' expression had become concerned. Five set their jaw and had to force themselves to breathe slowly, shallowly through their nose.

Ben was there, wasn't he? Had he seen something? Five had to try harder to remember Ben was around, spectral as he may be, and perfectly capable of relaying information to Klaus who could then relay it to the rest of the siblings. 

All it would take is one slip-up, one moment of weakness. Five had to do better to remember that.   
  
  
_ Shame would pass. _   
  
  
"Didn't mean to wake you up," Five interjected the second Klaus opened his mouth to speak again. "Sorry."   
  
Five knew Klaus was usually stunned by kinder words as they'd observed the others were often quick to shut him down. Vague honesty would be the most effective route here.   
They stalked towards the doorway, assuming Klaus would jolt out of the way in his clear surprise, but he didn't.    
Five readied a glare up at him, only to find their brother had compassion and pity written all over his face.   
  
It made Five feel sick.   
  
"I'm fine," they declared, a little too loudly, and then used their nifty little jumping powers to bypass the barrier of welled-up emotions, as well as Klaus blocking their way, managing to land near the bottom of the main staircase. 

Trudging pointedly up to their room, they noticed the sensation returning in their hands once they reached the third floor.

They thought it would last longer. Five preferred the numbness. But they could deal with this. They had to.   
  
Once they got their hands back to work--writing, assessing, being productive--then they wouldn't have to worry about it. Calculations kept their brain too busy for pointless feelings, and they'd be better off focusing on what was most important right then: stopping the apocalypse.   
  
Five opened their bedroom door, and instantly grimaced. Allison was perched on their bed, waiting for them with a stern but motherly gaze.   
  
"Do you need something?" Five bit out. Allison reacted most to angry words, as they gave her reason to be emotional. And she didn't care for confrontation, it seemed, funny as that was. Getting her out of the room shouldn't prove too difficult a task.

She scribbled across a pad of paper, and held it up for Five to see.

_ Just checking up on you _ , it read. She was smiling softly, despite the obvious bags under her eyes, no makeup to cover it all.   
  
"At 3 in the morning?" Five snarked, and made a beeline for their nightstand to grab a new stick of chalk. They'd last paused on the equations on the wall, but they should absolutely focus on the compounds drawn across the side of the wardrobe, and not just because they wouldn't have to stand right next to Allison to do it. The work could easily be completed with her there.   
  
Five hadn't even turned around when they heard yet another guest join them.   
"No progress then, I take it?" It was Luther, and as Five glared over their shoulder at him, they realized he was speaking to Allison.    
  
What, were they all planning something without them now? In the middle of the night? Five didn't have time to deal with their shenanigans anyway, they were  _ this close _ to narrowing down potential targets into an estimated pool of four hundred. From there, they'd just cross-reference connections in the current timeline and then they'd have it down to fifty within the hour! And by sunrise, they would have their man! Variables be damned, they could easily account for the margin of error  _ after _ saving them all from complete annihilation.   
  
Allison wrote something down, likely responding to their brother. Luther mumbled something probably unintelligent in response. Five tuned out the one-sided conversation.   
Identifying their last line of corresponding outcome paths, Five started a new branch to further determine favorable ones, only halfway up the wardrobe's side and plenty of room to list as many as they could find. The chalk tapping and scratching on the wood was easier to focus on than the chattering nearby.   
  
"That figures," Luther had sighed loudly, his voice carrying in the tiny room. Five found out rather quickly upon their return to 2019 that it was best to just ignore Luther, as that always got him sulking and questioning his own actions. The big oaf ought to use his brain more often, maybe he'd actually learn something someday.   
  
"Klaus said it was just water this time," came Diego's voice from the hall as he stomped his way up the stairs.   
Okay, so they were inviting themselves into Five's space now? Just waltzing right into their room? At this ungodly hour? And weren't even bothering to explain themselves? Fine.   
Five ignored all of them. 

Company meant nothing. In fact, the noise was  _ comforting _ ! The opposite of the annoyance they so clearly intended to be. This half-baked plan had backfired, as they were relieved to have them there, not bothered in the slightest!   
  
_   
Relief was never required. _   
  
  
Five's hand stiffened. That tight pain in their chest again. No, not this, not now,  _ not now _ …

Breath hitched, they stared down the side of the wardrobe, keeping their expression as neutral as possible.   
They willed their brain to shut everything else out. Just do the math, save the world, deal with family later. Family later, answers now. Just get it done. Just get this done.   
They squeezed their eyes shut as the pain in their chest grew, leaping into their throat and curling through their stomach.   
No emotions, Five, just logic. Find the solution, solve the problem, and then you can feel anything you want. Just get this done first.   
  
"Five?" Luther’s voice broke through the tension in every inch of their too-small body. He actually sounded concerned.

Five gripped the chalk tightly, the pain still shooting along their shoulders.

What point was there in being concerned right now? Their siblings were the ones invading Five’s space here. Five had important work to do, work they could all see very easily for themselves if they'd bothered to look around at every obviously-marked surface, and yet, all of them were trying to pull Five away from it for some new, selfish, pointless plan that would only serve to waste everyone's time. It would kill them, all of them, everyone. Didn't they realize that?

Annoyance flickered high over the twinge in their throat.  
  


_ Frustration was unwarranted. _   
  
  
"So, you just gonna ignore us now?" That was Diego. He almost sounded angry. Five took a deep breath, steadying themselves. Their throat was tight in discomfort but it wasn't useless yet.   
  
Five could handle an angry Diego. Outsmart him. It was that simple; gets him every time.   
  
Five opened their eyes, inspecting the wardrobe until they found where they'd left off. Four hundred and twenty-six.   
They smirked half-heartedly. The pain in their chest didn't waver, but they continued regardless, hand already loosened and writing down the next equation with more ease.   
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Five asked, tone dull and taunting for maximum effect. "Don't strain yourself trying to figure it out. We all know what happens when you do that."   
  
They kept their eyes on the equations, but heard what they knew was Luther holding Diego back, followed by a bunch of muttering, all of which were most likely curse words. Five didn't bother to try and appreciate that. The lot of them were lucky Five hadn't already forced them to leave. Their siblings should feel privileged, really. If Five had cared just a smidge less, then maybe--   
  
  
_ Sentiment held no point. _   
  
  
The chalk froze in place again as their throat burned, stinging with pain. They blinked and tried to breathe again. The agonizing twinge and pull through their chest struck worse this time, just not as sharp. It wasn't stabbing at them from inside anymore, but rather spreading as little needle-pricks from their heart and down their arms and up their neck. They could now tell their mouth was completely dry as they sucked in air through gritted teeth.   
Everything felt warm, and in the worst way. Their ears burned, their throat constricted painfully, and their eyes were hot and watery. The prickling started to creep past their neck and into their head, pounding with the headache they hadn't noticed was already there.   
  
Five tried to suppress the twitch in their eye, but they failed. They squeezed both eyes shut again, hoping no one saw, that no one suspected.   
Five would be fine. They knew this. They just needed to push whatever this was away and keep going. It worked before, so it'll work again, _solvitur ambulando_.   
Five concentrated and willed the pain-- _ the feelings _ away.   
No emotions allowed. Not today. Just finish the work and save the day. Just get it done. 

They could worry about their family later. They could feel whatever this was later.   
  
  
"Five."  
  


A flash of cold rippled through their being, sickly sensations settling in their stomach at the far-off familiarity.   
  
They refused to open their eyes. Not now. They couldn’t do this now.

If their siblings had actually bothered to recruit Vanya into this mess, then they must have been really desperate. Why would they be desperate?   
Vanya's voice was soft and small, but Five resisted the instant urge to look and check on her. Five knew very well she learned her puppy dog eyes from Klaus, and had perfected it at that.   
And it didn't take an in-depth analysis of her personality to know that just a single, deep and negative remark would be enough to send her away crying.    
But Five didn't want to do that. They didn't want to hurt her. They didn't want to hurt any of them.   
That wasn't why they'd come back.   
  
"Five, just… Maybe just sit down for a second, okay?" Voice trembling with worry, Vanya stepped up next to them. Five could tell her hand was hovering near their shoulder, debating whether it'd be worth Five's known hostility to try and comfort them.   
  


She should know better.

  
Five didn't need anyone's pity.  
  
  
_ Compassion was useless. _   
  
  
"Just go," Five told her harshly through gritted teeth, and tried again to breathe before looking up, only at the wardrobe. The numbers and brackets were swimming together, creating nothing but a scribbled mess before their eyes.   
  
That wasn't good.   
  


Everything, all of it blurred as their eyes watered involuntarily. Five struggled to clear away the needless thoughts crawling in from seemingly everywhere. They scrunched up their nose, unseemly but a last-ditch effort to try and keep any tears from falling. 

They made the mistake of crying before, of opening up to nothing and no one. There was truly nothing more pathetic than to show weakness when it served no purpose, be it in the manor, in the apocalypse, or in the Commission.

But this? This was in their room, in front of their family. It would be much, much worse in this situation. There would be far worse consequences in this reality.   
Everyone was watching them, waiting for what they did next. It dawned on Five that this erratic behavior had to be the exact reason why they were all there. The late hour, the exclusive plan, the watching and waiting. That had to be it.   
  
Which meant Five could absolutely not be weak in this moment. Not here.

It was time to leave.

  
Calculating in their head for a moment how long ago they'd actually rested, Five determined the last potential recharge they’d had of their abilities, and quickly counted how many times they had jumped since then.   
Pain scratched its way through their chest and throat again as they realized the eleventh jump would have been last night. That meant the twelfth and final jump was just a few minutes ago, down in the kitchen.   
They were out of jumps, out of energy, out of chances. At least, until they somehow managed to sleep again.   
  
"Fuck."   
  
"Hey, now," came Klaus' voice, somewhere behind them. “Language.” 

Of course he was there, too. Just what Five needed, the biggest possible audience for whatever the hell this was… What even was it?

Horrible pain slashed through them, shaking every part of their too-small, too-young body again. Their knees wobbled and their neck strained. This wasn’t something inconvenient and uncomfortable anymore, this wasn't the prickling from their moments in too much silence. It was worse. Much worse than they'd ever remembered. Unbearable.   
  
They stumbled back, reaching up to their chest. At first, Five figured they could wait out the pain, and then discreetly wipe their eyes without anyone noticing. This didn't have to go completely wrong. They just had to focus and they could get back to work. Just force it to go away.   
  
But when Five tried to breathe in again, nothing happened. The sharp aching in their chest had turned hollow. 

The room around them had grown louder, either by their siblings’ reaction to Five’s absurdity, or the sudden rushing of blood through their ears that began to pulsate as well as ache. The prickling that reached up their arms was now circling what felt like a hole that had opened up inside their very core. They tried again. Nothing. The burn swept through them, through everything, spreading from their middle up their lungs and into their throat, leaping out into the space and the world around them.   
  
Oh, no.   
  
They couldn't hear anything but they felt their knees land on the solid floor, followed soon by their hands. What was happening? Why couldn't they breathe?   
  
Five knew how to do this. They'd done it before. It was simple. It was supposed to be easy. Why wasn’t it easy?   
  
They tried again, tried to just  _ breathe _ , but the pain, the chilling heat ripped through them, feeling as though it was shredding everything in its path. Five whimpered pitifully instead. God, it hurt.   
  
  
_ Pain was temporary. _   
  
  
Of course. Of course it was. Fuck pain. Five didn't need pain. Pain served no purpose. Not here, not anywhere, never. Never.   
  
The ashes in their lungs disagreed. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. 

Five reached up, just barely felt their own hand clawing at their throat. It had to stop. This had to stop.   
Their hand felt wet.   
They hoped it wasn't blood, but they refused to look. Not again. They couldn't see them. Not like that. Never… not again.   
  
Five had just wanted to fix everything, to keep anyone else from dealing with this, to let everyone live. They had spent so many years just wishing their siblings could be alive, could be happy. They didn't need Five, they didn't need someone so pathetic to do that for them, and Five knew it, they’d known it for decades.

But Five had left them to their fate the first time. And that meant it was their responsibility to do everything in their power to make things right, to keep their family alive this time, and every time after that. 

What else were they supposed to do? They were made to fix this. That was their purpose. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise. They had no other reason to be there, to be back.

They needed to go back.   
  
They needed to finish what they were doing.

Just get it done. Finish what they were doing.   
  
What  _ were _ they doing?   
  
Five looked up. They were in a dark, destroyed world. The smell of smoke, and then ash and more ash filling their lungs at an alarming rate. Their heart pumped loudly, solemnly, in their chest, in their ears over the absolute silence of the entire earth.   
  
No, not here. Not here. They needed to get away from here. Anywhere but here. They were supposed to go back! They had gone back! What happened?   
  
Something kept them in place, kept them kneeling uncomfortably in the dirt and debris. Staring down, they could see their hands were covered in blood, their family dead beneath them, their failures the only company they'd ever have.   
  
Five felt the hollowness swallow them whole. There was nothing left to take. They were empty.   
  
The sob slipping from their own mouth--it sounded distorted, far away. They fell into pieces, every single inch pulling and breaking apart, cracking, crumbling in silence into the rubble beneath them.

They shattered into the nothing, pieces shrinking smaller as they spread apart, falling further into the dark, never to be found again.   
  
They'd failed. They hadn't tried hard enough. They deserved this nothingness, this everything. It was their punishment, their task, their end. 

There had only been one job, a single task they were meant to do, and yet, they couldn't. There was only one thing they were made to do, and yet, they hadn't. They were doomed to always fail, to never fix this, to never figure out how to save their family, to save everyone, to save anyone.

Their family had deserved to live.

But if this was living, this unending nothing, maybe they didn't deserve that fate. Maybe only Five deserved something this grave, this terrifying. Five, alone-- _ so alone _ \--deserved this nothing.   
  
Someone grabbed their face, and Five bristled and managed to jolt away. The whole world was dark. There was nothing, no one anywhere. Where were they?

They stumbled back in the black and deafening nothingness, crawling across the nothing until they were flush against… something? A wall? 

No, that was a person.   
Someone grabbed their arm. The touch burned, their skin sizzling without sound.

They looked again, but Five couldn't see anything in the dark but the faraway, distant fires. Their eyes hurt, straining as they tried to blink, to see something else. Anything else. 

The forever-silent falling ash returned. The ash and dust that kept filling their lungs and throat, filling the hollow nothing inside. It hurt so much, but it wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? It had to stop. Please. Please let it stop.   
  
"Five! Five, just breathe!"   
  


They looked down, and there were arms wrapped around their middle, holding them back, holding them down, holding them.

They could hear breathing over their shoulder, and Five glanced around. Someone stood over them, an arm wrapping over their shoulder. Another lying heavy across their collarbone. One more at Five's side, head hung low, holding their wrist, their hand.

Eyes aching, heavier than they'd ever been, Five blinked.  
  


It was Klaus.

Why was Klaus there?

Their brother looked up, meeting their eye.  
  


"What…" Five's voice croaked out, their mouth dry and still tasting of dust. "Why are you here?"

Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, glancing away, next to him into the dark nothing with a confused stare. Five watched as he opened his mouth, but the words that came out were far away. There was no one there. Klaus wasn't there; why would he be? No one was there. No one was ever there.

Five felt warm now, head pounding along obnoxiously to the sound of blood rushing in their ears. The sound that broke through was startling, but Five found they were too exhausted to react. They could feel their own chest rising and falling with haggard breaths as the world around them started to cover itself in ash and fire again, brighter and brighter as the sun shone down, engulfing everything. 

The arms already wrapped around them on all sides held tighter. It hurt. Everything hurt.

The pain, the burning was too much. Five pulled at the hands on their waist, trying to break away from the hold, trying to breathe again, to think again.

"Five?"

"Hey, you're okay, it's alright."

The voices breaking through the light were surrounding them.

Five looked over their shoulder. Luther. Luther was holding them. Allison was there, too, face unfocused but recognizable.

Someone tugged at their hand, and Five whipped their head to their side again.

Klaus had returned. And Diego had his arm stretched over Five's shoulders, wrapping them tightly like he never intended to let go.

Without thinking, Five looked forward, hoping-- _ why hope? _ \--to see their sister, to see Vanya. 

And there she was, huddled close to them, her mouth moving around a frown, tears clear in the corners of her eyes.

Her voice finally caught up with their ears.

"You're okay, Five."

They didn't know what to do. What had happened? Why was everyone there?

Were they supposed to feel better, or worse?

"Five?" Vanya trembled in front of them, hand reaching, settling atop Five's knee. 

It burned. All the hands burned and itched. But Five wanted them there. They wanted this, they were sure of it.

Five tried, pleaded silently to themself to remain still, but they kicked away her hand anyway.

She pulled away, and Five only felt deep regret. She was just trying to help. All of them were only trying to help.

Why were they like this? Why did they always do this? Why did they have these emotions?

"...Vanya," they managed to say. They were supposed to apologize but it was stuck, burrowing itself in their throat, hiding with all the emotions buried deep inside.

"Hey," Vanya spoke as calmly as she could manage, but the fear and tears gave her away. "Hey, just breathe. You're gonna be alright."

Five wanted to believe her, but the throbbing in their ears and the burning spread across all their skin didn't lie. They just had to hope-- _ hope? _ \--they were the only one dealing with it.

They were the only one who deserved it, after all. They had failed.

"Can you hear me?"

Five swallowed whatever had crawled up their throat just then. This wasn't the time or place for that.

Five nodded as they stared up at their sister.

A sigh of relief blew past their ear and reminded Five that the others were all there.

They were alive. How had that happened?

They glanced past Vanya and recognized their own bedroom, the chalk writing on the walls, on virtually every surface. They were at home. They were supposed to be working.

That's what they had been doing.

They hadn't finished their work.

The apocalypse hadn’t been stopped yet.

They were wasting time.

Five moved to stand, or tried to, but every hand, every arm, held them back, and they shifted as they were lowered back down to the wooden floor, surrounded on all sides unfairly.

"Whoa, calm down, don't try to move just yet," came Klaus' raspy voice next to them.

"Yeah, give yourself a second," Luther added from behind them, his voice hoarse and attempting to be comforting.

Five didn't need anyone's comfort. They didn't anyone's pity.

They only needed to get their work done.

Vanya reached out a hand, trying to draw Five's attention until they met her eye again. She gazed at them with a small, weak smile. 

Five was hurting them. They were hurting their siblings with this, with their irrational, unnecessary emotions.

As Five's mind slowly cleared, and the pain started to dissipate and curl away, they felt more of those pesky emotions begging to get out. Anger was building, sadness was stewing, even relief was finding a way through their veins. Five hated this, whatever this was. Some kind of attempt to  _ help,  _ at their own expense? There was nothing they needed help with; Five just had to get rid of these pointless, useless, needless emotions and do their damn job already.

Vanya kneeled down and leaned in close, gently grazing a hand to Five's cheek. The soft touch was a flickering flame along their skin, and they held their breath to keep from struggling away from her reflexively.

"How are you feeling?" Vanya asked, voice but a whisper.

What a horrid phrase. What a disgusting question. 

Five had never felt the urge to spit in their sister's face before, but they sure as hell wanted to now.

Their jaw clenched, and they pulled at the arms around them, uttering through gritted teeth,

"I'm-- I'm  _ not _ !"

Vanya didn't react right away. She slowly lowered her hand, and waited, expecting something more.

But there wasn't more; that was everything any of them could ever need to know about Five. They  _ didn't _ feel because they didn't need to! Because it was redundant, it was ineffective, it was never required.

Klaus chuckled and let go of Five's hand, the burn still sizzling away even without the contact. He had outright laughed, shouting,

"That is the most concerning thing I've ever heard anyone say  _ ever _ ! What the  _ fuck _ \--"

"Shut it! You're not helping!" Diego punched his brother’s shoulder, loosening his tight hold across Five. The burning sensation finally began to wane.

" _ Ow _ !" Klaus whined, dramatic as ever. "Alright, geez..."

The distraction and looser hold was enough for Five to wriggle their way out of Luther's remaining grasp, and they slipped past his hulking arms. Five half-crawled, half-stumbled around Vanya as she frowned over at them.

Five tried to stay standing but their knees wobbled the moment they were on their feet, only making it two steps before they crumpled right back to the floor. 

"Five!" A clamoring of voices behind them piped up instantly before they found themselves surrounded again.

"We're just trying to help."

"Five, come on…"

"What is with you--"

Five pushed all of them away again and scrambled back, dodging more hands, escaping more burning, until they eventually collided with their bed. They grabbed at it, pulling themselves up enough to stand again.

Turning back to the others, Five's eyes finally landed on all their siblings. In complete disarray across the floor, sitting, kneeling, and lucky Diego the only one on his feet. They all stared back at Five, matching expressions of concern on all their faces.

Seeing them alive, breathing, moving, talking… Five gulped down the relief bubbling in their throat.

_ Relief was never required. _

Only a flicker of the pain returned, just a brief moment of fire in their stomach, but it was still enough to leave Five gasping for air.

They lurched forward, barely catching themselves by grasping at the nightstand, knocking books to the floor.

Forcing themselves to breathe, to not be weak again, Five stood up straight, eyes to the mess on the floor and not their siblings.

"I don't need your help," Five told them. “What… what I’m doing is  _ important _ . And you’re only in my way.”

An exasperated sigh was the first thing they heard in response.    
Five hadn’t expected much else, though.

Trying to ignore their siblings, they looked down and grabbed the closest piece of chalk sitting on the nightstand. Back to work, then. 

Standing without support made them feel-- _ experience _ dizziness, but if they could just get back to the other side of the room, if they just focused on narrowing those results… They just had to fix all of this and save them, save the world, and it’d be fine. 

They had a job to do.

“They forgot again.”

Five looked up, confused. What did that mean?

Klaus was dragging a hand down his face, Vanya was shaking her head in what seemed like disbelief. Allison was staring up at Five with actual tears starting to run down her face.

Five was completely lost. Perhaps this wasn’t what they really expected after all…

Luther spoke up again,

“This has to stop, Five.”

Everyone in the room looked back at him like Luther had said something far more ludicrous. Five wasn’t sure how to place his incredulous tone, though. Luther seemed  _ exasperated _ , for lack of a better term in his already-addled mind.

He ventured on, despite everyone’s stares,

"Four times now,” he held it up in gloved fingers. “Four times, in the last two months." 

Five stared at him, and Luther held their gaze, unwavering. "We get that you're struggling, okay, really, but…"

"But  _ what _ ?" Five spat out, clenching the chalk in their fist at their side. None of this made sense. What was he even saying?

Luther sighed.

"We can't keep doing this."

The others were silent at that, but Five could see all the awkward glances out of the corner of their eye. Can't keep doing  _ what _ ?

Against everything in them that begged them not to ask, the lack of understanding finally won out and they bit out a genuine, “What?” in response.

Diego stepped forward, around the others, and crossed his arms defensively. His tone didn't match his stance at all when he remarked,

"As much as I hate to admit it, Luther has a point. Five, you need help."

"...way to word it, Diego,  _ jesus _ …" Klaus cringed, plopping back on his elbows, sprawling himself across the floor. He looked up at Five, and gave his best sympathetic smile. “Don’t listen to ‘em, Five. The big boys are just pissed because you keep ruining their weekends ever since you stopped us all from dying a fiery death.”

Five blinked. Since they did what?  _ When? _

“When?” The question slipped out. “I wasn’t able to find the--”

“Two months ago,” Luther explained. “Vanya almost… We almost lost Allison. You got us out of the theatre before everything ended.”

“Literally,” Klaus added.

“You got us back here, safe,” Luther continued, but trailed off, glancing back at Allison in regret. 

Five could feel their stomach curl at the exchange. Clearly  _ safe _ wasn’t good enough. Allison still couldn’t speak. Ben wasn’t there, meaning he was probably still dead. Five had ultimately failed, then. Five had done nothing to help them.

They shuddered. No, they had come back to  _ fix _ everything. That was their whole reason for returning. How could they have  _ failed _ ? 

Diego sighed, picking up where Luther had left off,

“But now you keep forgetting every other week and working yourself into a mess and freaking out whenever we try to confront you about it. Like what’s happening right now. Again. A fourth time. Everyone’s least favorite number.”

“Hey!!” Klaus kicked at his shin and Diego only rolled his eyes.

Five grimaced painfully. Something about what he said sounded familiar. And with that, they realized they  _ did _ remember. They remembered all the effort it took to get back; they remembered  _ failing _ . 

They’d gone back to the Commission, they’d stolen a briefcase, managed to pass out over a measly shrapnel wound, and then got themselves tricked into talking to the Handler instead of defending their siblings when they needed to focus on Vanya… Allison had been the one that succeeded in stopping her in the end. 

But then the world was still ending… Five had… Five had  _ tried _ to bring them back, to try again. If they had failed, maybe they could fix it if they just had another chance…

“So, what you’re saying is, I failed.”

It slipped out, like everything before it. The words that were meant to stay inside. Five didn’t need anyone thinking they actually were upset by any of this, and yet, here they were, sounding like some insecure, self-pitying  _ child _ .

They hadn’t fixed anything. They didn’t accomplish anything by coming back here.

Vanya swallowed and looked around like she wanted someone else to speak up next. She finally stood up, mimicking Diego as she stepped towards the others, saying,

"We just think that maybe you should talk to somebody. That's all. It might help you with all this, uhh… stress? Or whatever it is that’s going on?”

Allison held out the yellow pad of paper again. Scribbled on it, Five could plainly read,

_ We care about you. _

Five wanted to shove the paper through Allison's teeth. How dare she pull this half-hearted attempt at mocking them, at pretending Five was worth any of their time!

They felt themselves grinding their molars in fury as they glowered at their sister in response. 

Five didn't care. Allison shouldn't care. None of them were supposed to care.

" _ No one _ is supposed to care about me," Five took a step forward, gritting their teeth. " _ I _ don't even care about me, so  _ STOP IT _ ."

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Five hated their mouth today, defying them repeatedly like this. 

They could feel every stare, all the eyes in the room were looking at them, analyzing them but failing to grasp the depth of the situation. None of them would ever truly understand, not the way they wanted to. Why would they even want to?

Five walked over and ripped the pad of paper from Allison's trembling hands, throwing it to the ground angrily before finally storming out of the room.

They had to settle for them knowing where Five was going as they were out of jumps, but they'd deal with that later.

But, perhaps now, they’d finally made their point.

They shouldn't care about Five. Maybe now, after something so senseless, after dealing with someone so apathetic to everything, they'd move on to better things. Maybe Five could finally do what they needed to without them. Or maybe they would all save the world a lot easier without Five there to ruin it for them. Maybe they'd actually be happy without Five there.

* * *

Five threw open the door to the small library, the whole room shrouded in dust and memories. They managed to slam the door knowingly behind them before finally crumpling to the floor in full exhaustion.

The moonlight streamed in through a cracked window, illuminating a small stack of books next to a desk chair, all equally coated in a fine layer of dust. 

This room used to be something of a safe haven, despite serving so little purpose to any of the kids growing up.

Five could relate, in that regard.

The library was perfect for Saturday free times, away from their bedrooms, away from the training grounds, away from the other, louder siblings. They could remember. They knew they could remember...

Vanya would often sit in the desk chair, Ben at her feet as he flipped through any books that resembled fiction, all while Five paced in front of them, wearing down the carpet while trying to describe metaphysical allusions to the last piece Ben had asked they’d all read in their downtime.

It was peaceful, but unproductive in the end.

Spending time with their family had proved pointless, because once Five had left, they had failed. Once Five had returned, they had failed again.

A creak, just outside the door, and Five was shoved back to today.

Five shoved their head down, pulling their knees up to their chest tightly. Yes, they knew at least one of their siblings would venture their way over here, but that didn’t mean they needed to see Five crying, of all things.

The heat prickling through their eyes only seem to worsen, knowing how hard they were trying to hide it.

There was a soft knock, and Five immediately hoped it was Vanya. They hated that they hoped for anything at all.

_ Hope was unimportant. _

“Five?” It was undeniably Vanya. Relief flooded through their shoulders and down their arms. Five squeezed their knees tighter. 

_ Relief was never required. _

The door quietly creaked open, and Vanya stepped inside, her steps almost silent, soft as ever. Five could hear her holding her breath, her hesitation that was always there before and ever-present today keeping her from approaching closer.

They wanted to look up at her, but there was no point. They hadn’t earned any level of comfort from their siblings, they shouldn’t even want any level of comfort from them. They needed to just be alone; it was what they were good at, after decades of practice, after all.

Before they could give in to thinking about that which was worse than death again, arms wrapped around their shoulders.

“I know you hate hugs, and I’m sorry, but--” Vanya’s quiet voice was shaking in their ear as she held onto them in a way that didn’t make sense. “But I just need to-- I just want you to be okay, even if it’s just for a second. Please, let me try…”

She was sniffling, and shaking, and Five realized that that made them feel absolutely  _ terrible _ .

They’d pushed her--all of them--away, but she still wanted to help? It just didn’t make sense.

Nothing made sense.

And, yet, they felt...relief?

_ Relief was never required. _

The chill running through them was familiar, but it was blocked so swiftly by Vanya’s warm embrace. She wasn’t letting go, she wasn’t letting Five let go.

No, relief was never required. But it wasn't unwelcome. A blink and they could be back in that nothingness, in the worst place they'd ever been. But with their eyes open, they were here. Their family was here. Five was here.   
  
Something about this didn't feel as overwhelming or forced as Five always thought it would. Something about this didn't feel empty.   
  
It wasn't numb. But it wasn't too much, either.   
  
It was fine.

It was okay.

They were going to be okay.


End file.
